Fire, Burn
by Avocado
Summary: Harry, Ron, and Hermione visit the Chamber of Secrets looking for a Horcrux. Spoilers for Half Blood Prince.


Disclaimer: Characters and settings not mine. The story is.

**Fire, Burn**

-----

Predictably, Hermione thought of it first. The three of us were sitting on my bed at the Burrow. Harry leaned against the headboard, arms crossed over his chest. Hermione was sitting at the foot of the bed, half-tailor-fashion; her left leg was crossed under her and her right was dangling off the edge of the bed. She had my pillow resting in her lap. I was halfway between them. Hermione's brown eyes lit. "Harry, maybe Voldemort hid one of the Horcruxes inside the Chamber of Secrets?"

"That's a good idea, Hermione," I said. She gave me a quick glance, then looked back at Harry. I looked over at him, too. "Harry, d'you think we ought to check?"

As soon as I said it, I wished I hadn't. The Chamber of Secrets was nowhere I wanted to see. And we already had a plan. We'd be off next day for Godric's Hollow. Ginny had looked like a kicked puppy, but she hadn't whinged about it, thank God. She wasn't coming.

Harry frowned. "But how would he have got in to put it there? Dumbledore"-- Harry flinched-- "didn't want him around."

He had a point. I looked at Hermione. She had a line between her brows. "Well... about Professor Snape--" I braced myself.

"--that traitor!" Like clockwork, Harry was.

I'd never liked the greasy git, but I'd never thought he was _evil._ Sadistic, yeah; I never wanted to scrub another of those cauldrons again.

She nodded, but pushed on in her "none of your nonsense" voice. "Yes, but, Harry... if he was always working for Voldemort"-- I flinched-- "Professor Snape"-- Harry flinched--"could have let him back into the school, and he wouldn't have told Professor Dumbledore about it." Harry flinched again, and I looked back at Hermione. Her lips were pursed; she twitched them from side to side.

It wasn't a _bad_ idea. Now that I thought on it, though, it didn't really make sense. I pointed out the big problem, still watching Hermione. I knew Harry was flinching as I spoke, even if I couldn't see him. "But Dumbledore would have known, wouldn't he? I mean, seemed like he always knew what went on. Even Snape couldn't have got V-V-Voldemort in. Without him, Snape couldn't have got into the Chamber of Secrets."

Hermione's shoulders slumped and her face fell. I felt bad, but I wasn't going in that cave again for a lark. Her slump didn't last long, though. She raised her chin, threw her shoulders back, then leaned forward, talking fast. "No, Professor Dumbledore _wouldn't_ have known. Not necessarily. Remember when Professor Umbridge was headmaster? He wasn't even around then. And he was out a lot last year. There are lots of ways to get in."

"But... inside Hogwarts? Are you certain?" I remembered that cave. I didn't want to see it again, even without Lockhart and his memory charms.

Hermione rubbed her hands together. She would probably start bouncing soon. "Well, I'm not _certain,_ but it makes sense. From what Harry said, Voldemort picked hiding places that were important to him-- his family's house, a cave from the orphanage... _of course_ he'd pick the Chamber of Secrets."

I nodded. She was selling me, whether I wanted to be sold or not. "And he'd probably like it that it was hidden so close to Dumbledore."

Harry sighed. "You're right. We should check." The words might as well have been dragged out of him. I could have kicked Hermione.

Well, I could have kicked her, but her lips were still pursed, deep in thought. I wondered if she'd look like that if I kissed her. I glanced at her mouth, then up. Her eyes met mine, then darted away. Her cheeks turned pink.

All right, I couldn't have kicked her at all.

-----

Next morning, we left for Hogsmeade. We let my mum and dad think we were going to Godric's Hollow. I wasn't going to talk about the Chamber of Secrets. Mum would have killed me for bringing it up.

Mum made too much breakfast; she always did when Harry and Hermione stayed over.

Harry downed his last rasher. Hermione and I'd stopped eating already; I was near exploding. Ginny'd been smarter than all of us. She was still sitting there-- I caught her watching Harry a few times-- but she'd finished off her small breakfast quickly and had fended off Mum's attempts to feed her more. _I need to learn how she does that. Mum'd have my head._

"Now, are you certain you don't want Arthur or me to go with you, dear?"

Harry was looking a bit hunted. "Thanks, Mrs Weasley, I'll be okay with Ron and Hermione."

Mum leaned over and patted his arm. "Of course, Harry."

She looked straight at me. _She's not going to tell me to take care of them, is she?_ "Be careful on the train, Ron. Remember what your father said about tickets. And watch the platforms."

Obviously, we hadn't told her we were Apparating. I'd just got my licence; I'd kept both eyebrows this time. Licence or no, Mum wasn't keen on me practising. And when I practised, she wanted the whole family to watch me in case I splinched myself. "Mum, Hermione and Harry have done it before. We'll be fine. We need to _go_, or we'll miss it." Not that we could miss Apparating, but I didn't think Harry wanted to hear Mum talk about how _brave_ he was being again.

Mum's eyes narrowed; I wondered if she was remembering the _last_ train Harry and I'd missed. _I_ still remembered that Howler.

Dad said, "Molly, he's right. The Muggle trains have a schedule." He looked straight at me. "Now, Ron, make certain to tell me all about it."

Harry stood up. "Thanks, Mr Weasley, Mrs Weasley," he said.

That was my cue, and I got up, too.

Hermione smiled at my mum. "It'll be all right, Mrs Weasley."

Ginny just rolled her eyes. Mum finally seemed reassured, though, and she bundled us out the door. She did get in a last order for me to mind Hermione.

We walked down the road, waving back to Mum and Dad. When we were out of sight, we stopped.

"Harry, you need to go with Ron or me. You can't Apparate yet." Hermione'd been harping on this all last week. Harry was better at Apparating than I was, licence or no. Trust Hermione to care about a week's difference.

Harry shrugged. "Fine, Hermione, I'll go with you."

I wasn't angry he chose Hermione; I'd have warned him off anyway. I didn't think I'd splinch us, but I knew Hermione wouldn't.

-----

Hogsmeade was Hogsmeade. It wasn't as busy as during Hogsmeade weekends, but the residents were still about.

We'd brought Harry's invisibility cloak with us, but only Harry wore it. Hermione and I stood out less.

We walked through the streets to Honeydukes. We hid around the corner, then wrapped ourselves up in Harry's cloak. I knew it would be a tight squeeze, but it was tighter than I thought. Hermione and I both had our arms around Harry's waist; I had to crouch to get my head under. My feet kept tangling with Harry's.

Thank God we only had to make it in the door, across the shop, and into the cellar.

Mr Flume was behind the counter talking to a customer. We opened and closed the door quietly. He didn't look our way.

Once we were through the trap door and inside the passage, Harry took off the cloak. It wasn't like we'd been under it long, but I was starting to feel like I could hardly breathe. I sprang away. Even Hermione moved a few paces away and let out a deep sigh.

Harry bundled up the cloak and handed it to Hermione. She frowned down at the pile in her hands, then shook it out and refolded it. She tucked the folded cloak in her handbag.

We didn't say much. It didn't keep me from thinking.

This wasn't a good idea. I remembered Dumbledore's hand-- and worse, Dumbledore dying. If there was a Horcrux in the Chamber of Secrets, it was daft to be going after it ourselves.

I wished I'd said that yesterday.

Who was there to ask, though? Dumbledore told Harry to keep it secret. No matter how many times Hermione had said we ought to tell Professor Lupin or Professor McGonagall, Harry had insisted we mustn't.

If Dumbledore hadn't told Harry he could tell _us_, or Harry'd probably be here by himself.

-----

We came out in the third floor corridor by the statue of the humpbacked witch. It was quiet-- too quiet. I knew Hogwarts was empty summers, but I'd never thought about it. It was bizarre to walk around and see only moving portraits. A couple called hellos after us before going back to chatting with the other portraits.

We went down to the second floor girls' bathroom. I'd forgot Moaning Myrtle. Her shriek ran up my spine.

She floated closer to Harry. Her eyes narrowed; if she hadn't been dead, she would have been spitting at him. "You! You murderer! You almost killed him!"

Harry's face twisted. He thrust his head at Myrtle. "Yeah, well, I didn't mean to and we would have been better off if I had!"

_Him?_ I remembered: the book, Draco Malfoy, _Sectumsempra_. _What, she'd rather Malfoy hit Harry with an Unforgivable?_

Harry stomped across the room. He walked right through Myrtle. He stopped in front of the broken sink.

I looked over at Hermione. Her face was white. She looked angry. She'd been furious about that spell. Me, I didn't know if he was right. I wasn't going to fight about it now, though. I waved after Harry. Hermione's lips pressed together. "Not now," I mouthed at her.

A bit of colour came back to her face. She gave me a brief nod and an even briefer smile. I didn't believe the smile, but there was nothing I could say.

Myrtle was still shrieking-- I could hear her quite well, but I could barely make out one word in ten. At least nobody was here to come running.

Harry hissed a string of sibilants at the sink. The tap spun. The sink slid down. The passage opened.

Hermione gasped.

She hadn't been there the last time. I wished _I_ hadn't.

I looked into the passage. The walls glistened: slime.

Amazing what you can't forget.

Harry jumped in first. I went after. I heard the thump behind me as Hermione jumped in. It was dark. I never knew when the next bend was coming, then I hit it. Each crash wrenched my body around-- I turned, kept sliding. I was one big bone-jarring bruise.

Hermione was whimpering behind me. I wished she were anywhere but here. I wasn't picky; I'd have liked to be there with her.

Harry landed with a thump at the bottom. I slammed into him; the floor might not have been softer, but it would have been less bony. No time to whinge about it; I heard Hermione scream. She cut off as she slammed out on top of me. Then there was no air to whinge about it, either. My legs were tangled with Harry's and I'd got my left arm tightly bound up Hermione's sleeve. It took a few minutes to untangle and get to our feet.

"_Lumos_."

Harry and Hermione echoed me. We each had a glowing wand tip.

It was still too dark. I'd rather have had a Muggle torch-- even one my Dad _hadn't_ modified to make odd light shapes.

"Let's go," said Harry. It hardly sounded like him, echoing back from the tunnel walls. I shuddered.

I saw Harry's wand shining as he moved forward; Hermione's glowed lower as she followed. I moved after both of them.

I must have got slightly off their track. I stubbed my toe.

"Damn!" I waved my wand about-- a pile of rocks; probably from Lockhart and his botched Memory Charm. I flexed my toes, rubbing the sore one against the inside of my shoe. _That old wand was good for something,_ I thought. I held my wand down, lighting the rockpile as best I could as I circled around it and hurried after Harry and Hermione.

The tunnel was narrow. We were in a tight line, Harry in front.

Hermione twitched as she brushed at her jumper and trousers every few steps. I almost told her there was no point. We'd burnt my and Ginny's robes after the last time. Even Mum's best cleaning charm couldn't budge the slime, and she knew them all.

It was hard to think of Mum here. There was nothing homey about this place. My shoes made muffled thumps against the stone.

The walls were pressing in.

I'd fallen behind again, thinking about home. I looked up.

Harry's wand stopped moving. Hermione's moved forward, then left. In the light of their wands, I could see a wall. A few more steps, then I was there, standing on Harry's right. All our wands together lit two stone snakes, twined together on the wall. Their scales were carved deep-- too real. I moved my wand to the left, then jumped back a little at a green glint. Leaning forward again, I saw it-- emerald eyes.

Harry said something-- Parseltongue again-- and the snakes moved as the wall split apart.

The door opened, a gaping maw. This had to be the Chamber.

Harry didn't even look my way before going in.

"Wish we were home," I whispered.

I tried to keep it quiet, but Hermione must have heard me. "Me too," she whispered.

I raised my wand to see her better, then smiled at her. She probably couldn't see it. She switched her wand to her left hand, then took my left and squeezed.

Letting go, she stepped in. So did I.

I could see only a little with my wand-- Hermione's was by me, and Harry's a dozen paces on. This room was bigger-- it swallowed up all the light, and the echoes of our footsteps were louder. I didn't like the big room any better than I'd liked the cramped tunnel. I kept looking around, craning my neck to see-- as if I could. I glanced forward and yelped when I almost walked straight into a column. It was big and wide, snakes twined about it. I backed up a pace and went around. Snakes weren't spiders; I didn't like them much better.

Harry was still moving, Hermione after him. I rushed to catch up.

We stopped in front of a large statue. I could only make it out in bits and pieces. Those were enough to identify Salazar Slytherin.

Hermione laughed. It wasn't much of one. "I wonder what he'd say about a Muggle-born being here."

I licked at my lips, tasting slime. "I dunno, Hermione. Probably nothing nice."

Harry's voice was bitter. "He'd probably curse us all."

There was a low chuckle.

It wasn't me. It wasn't Harry. It definitely wasn't Hermione. I whipped my head up to stare at the statue.

Suddenly, all three of our wands were flying through the air, tracing trails of light. They came together and stopped. They seemed to float in midair.

And then my brain switched gears and I knew what I was seeing. Wandlight shone up, casting bright lights and dark shadows on a long, hooked nose and pale skin. Its eyes were black pits, lips drawing back in a skull's grin. _What is it?_

And then I knew-- Snape.

All three wands went dark.

"It isn't Salazar Slytherin's curse you should have been worried about, Mr Potter," said Snape. I always got the sense that he was mocking us. This time, he probably was.

I had _hated_ Snape's class. I always felt stupid and unprepared. Class was nothing on this. My wand gone, in the dark _where no one knew where we were,_ I'd never felt stupider or less prepared.

"Oh, God," Hermione whispered.

"You." Harry's voice shook. "_You!_ You traitor! You murdered Dumbledore and--"

I felt about. I could hear Snape, but I couldn't see him anymore. We needed our wands back. Maybe then we could stun him and make a run for it. Where was he?

"Very clever, Mr Potter," Snape said. "Miss Granger isn't even helping you. I know precisely what I've done."

"I'll kill you!" cried Harry.

There was the sound of scuffling feet followed by a crash. I didn't have much time to think about it. I was tightly wrapped-- shoulders to ankles. My arms were bound up against my sides. From the feel against my hands, it was rough rope.

Snape was still mocking. "I am certain you will try. Who knows; I may even let you. Unfortunately, we are wasting time." Time for what? We weren't going anywhere. Snape'd have no trouble dragging us to You-Know-Who. I shuddered. _Unprepared again._

"Bastard!" Harry's voice came from down low; was he on the ground? _If only I could see._ Even if I could, what was I going to do-- _fall_ on him?

A deep sigh-- it was Snape again. "If I wanted you and your friends dead, Mr Potter, you would be dead. I realize you had a series of useless Defence Against the Dark Arts instructors-- but surely _I_ taught you to be more cautious than this." It didn't strike me as the time to start defending Professor Lupin.

Come to think of it, Lupin probably wouldn't have been impressed by the way we'd got ourselves caught.

There was a long pause. "How did you know we were here, sir?" asked Hermione. That was Hermione all over: captured by a murdering Death Eater, and she called him "sir."

Snape's voice dripped contempt. "I set an alarm spell on the Chamber the last time I was here, Miss Granger. It was enough to alert me to your entrance. I might suggest that you search for similar spells in the future and disarm them, but I suppose rushing headlong into danger is the Gryffindor way."

The only positive thing about Snape's speech was that it suggested that we _had_ a future.

Hermione appeared to realize the same thing. "Sir, are you here... to help us?" Hermione said.

A short laugh; I didn't see what was funny about it. "I am here for my own purposes. As it happens, your purposes and mine coincide in this matter."

"Why?" I asked. My throat was dry; I was lucky to get _that_ out.

"Ah, yes. Mr Weasley as well." Suddenly the room was lit. Whatever spell Snape used, it worked better than a _Lumos_ spell or three. I blinked fast. With the afterimages, it took awhile to see Harry lying bound on the floor. Hermione stood a metre away from me, also wrapped mummy-style in rope. "The Dark Lord's immortality does not fit in with my long-term plans."

My jaw dropped. "You can't be saying _Dumbledore_ planned this." It _couldn't_ be all a plot to get Snape in with the Death Eaters.

Snape sighed; his exasperation carried through clearly. "I am saying nothing of the sort. I am saying that I have my own reasons for wanting the Dark Lord out of the way."

Harry laughed, a bitter bark. "You want to take his place."

"Perhaps."

"And why would we help you, sir?" Hermione said. It would have sounded better if she hadn't tacked another "sir" on the end.

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Come now, Miss Granger. Surely _you_ can see the benefits of a temporary alliance. I know where to find the Dark Lord's Horcrux. Destroy this one, and you will be well over halfway-- you've already destroyed the diary, the ring, and the locket."

_Snape_ knew about the Horcruxes. Why were we keeping them secret? But Snape didn't know about the locket. _I_ wasn't going to tell him.

Apparently Hermione wasn't either. She shook her head. "And why would you need our help?" At least she managed to leave off the "sir" this time. I struggled with my ropes; no luck.

Snape smiled. Smiling Snape was worse than sneering Snape. "I know where to find it, Miss Granger, but I cannot reach it. I'm not a Parselmouth."

"How'd you get in _here_, then?" Harry snapped.

Snape's left foot tapped. "I had the foresight to create a Portkey keyed to this place the last time I was here. Unfortunately, while I know where to find the entrance to the room where the Horcrux is concealed, Portkeys do not work inside. Now, shall we move on?"

"I hate you." Harry's face was red. He writhed; his ropes didn't budge.

"Oh, yes. I'm certain that you do," he breathed. "Now, do we have an alliance, or do I leave you here?"

"I'd rather die than work with you, Snape. Traitor. Murderer." Harry was shouting and twisting at his ropes again.

Snape's voice was sharp and mocking. "That, too, can be arranged. In fact, I might claim that if you _don't_ work with me, you _will_ die. I'd hardly recommend it."

Snape was powerful. He'd have to be. I didn't trust him. But if he wanted to help, we could use it. "Harry," I said, "I think we have to do it."

His head twisted; he was looking straight at me. The light glared off his glasses. "I don't want to deal with him, Ron," he said sullenly.

"I don't either, mate," I said. "But he's right."

"Harry," Hermione said, "We have to."

Harry moaned. He lifted his head and crashed it back into the stone floor. He wriggled his body around until he was facing Snape. "I hate you. We'll do it. But when we're done--"

"Quite so, Mr Potter." Snape made a quick gesture with his wand. The ropes disappeared.

Harry scrambled to his knees, then his feet. He held out a hand. "Give me my wand."

Snape shook his head. "Your parole, first. All three of you."

"What about yours?" Harry's jaw thrust out. He reached out, snatched at the wands.

Snape was still taller; he held them back, out of the way. "May I remind you that I am the one holding a wand and _you are not dead._ You do not require my parole. Now, give me your _word_."

Harry's face twisted. He took a step back. "I swear to you on my parents' _graves_, Snape."

The corners of Snape's mouth quirked. "Sufficient, to be certain." He raised one eyebrow. "Miss Granger?"

I watched Hermione. She crossed her arms tightly across her chest, fingers clutching at her sides. "I swear, sir."

"Mr Weasley?"

I didn't want to look at him, but I did. He was a Legilimens; he probably caught the hatred I felt. "I swear."

"Remember your oaths." He tossed us each our wands in turn. "Now, follow me." He turned sharply on his heel and led us behind the statue. We stopped dead center behind it. Snape and Harry were in front, Hermione and I stood behind them.

At first, I saw nothing different about that spot. Then I saw it: a small zig-zag scratched into the wall.

Harry made a disgusted noise. "All of that and we walk behind the statue?"

"I take it _you_ would have had no problem finding it on your own, Mr Potter?"

"Give over, mate," I muttered, grabbing Harry's arm. He shook me off.

His head was turned to face Snape. "What do I do now, _Snape?_"

Snape shrugged. "Ask it to let you in, I'd imagine."

Harry sneered. His sneer would have looked perfect on Snape. I would have died before telling Harry.

Harry turned back to face the wall. More hisses, and I shivered. How did Harry's tongue _do_ that?

The scrape in the wall glowed green. There was a deep rumbling noise.

The wall split in half, top to bottom. The halves slid apart. When they stopped moving, there was an opening two metres wide and four metres tall. It was pitch black. It might as well have been solid tar. No light from above made it past; it was all sucked away.

"What's in there?" I whispered.

Snape looked back at me. Light glinted off his eyes. "A Horcrux, Mr Weasley," Snape said.

I shook my head. "No, I mean, I can't see. What else?" It seemed like the perfect monster's lair. It had been. Just because the basilisk was gone--

"A trap, naturally." He sneered. "You'll see soon enough."

Without another word, Harry strode into the darkness. Snape followed. I looked at Hermione and offered her my hand. She gave me a quick smile, then reached out and took it. Holding her cold and slimy hand wasn't exactly romantic. It was better than being alone.

"Let's go," I said. We walked forward together.

-----

Past the black curtain, there was light. When I looked behind me, I couldn't see where we'd been. I couldn't hear stone sliding either. The ceiling sloped downward from four metres to three, the corridor itself remained two metres wide. The walls themselves were rough-hewn stone. I had expected a cave, but this looked manmade. A few paces on, there were two openings, one to our left, one to our right.

The walls burned with green fire, a sickly olive-coloured flame. It was the only light. The floors and ceiling were clear-- no flame, only stone.

Snape and Harry stood a few paces ahead, a little behind the left and right openings. Snape had his back to us. Harry stood next to him, staring at Snape. Harry was still sneering.

Agreement or no, this didn't look good.

"What is this place, sir?" Hermione asked.

Snape responded without turning around. "It's a labyrinth, Miss Granger. A maze."

Mum and Dad had insisted on taking the lot of us to Hampton Court when I was seven. One turn into the maze, and Fred and George had rushed off. It left me to deal with Ginny. I'd dragged Ginny back and forth in front of the same spots for half the day. After awhile, Ginny wouldn't shut up about her feet. "Do you know the way through?" I asked, heart beating too fast.

This time, he did look back. Snape was ugly at the best of times. Green light didn't help. "It changes. I helped the Dark Lord construct it, but that gives me no particular advantage."

"Are there any traps?" Harry asked. His sneer dropped; his voice was almost normal.

"Of course," Snape said. He smiled. "But none will be triggered until the Horcrux is removed."

"What are they?" Harry asked.

"There's only the one," Snape said, turning his head forward again. His hand waved outward, indicating the burning wall. "It's what you might expect: fire. Water spells don't work. Portkeys don't work. We can't Apparate out. We can't summon anything."

"So what do we do about it?" Hermione asked.

"Try not to get burned," he said. "Now, come on."

"If you don't know where to go--" I began.

Snape halted. "Try to stay with me, Mr Weasley." It was said with Snape's usual contempt. "None of the traps are activated until we reach the center of the maze and remove the Horcrux. Even now, if you put your hand on the wall, it will not burn you. Thus, we can use the tried and true method for finding the center of a labyrinth." He moved to his right and extended his right arm. He set his right hand against the wall. Green flames rose and wrapped around it; Snape didn't flinch or pull his hand away.

I stared at him. _Why not?_ I took a step to the right and put my right hand on the wall, ignoring Hermione's shocked, "Ron!" It didn't hurt. Green flames slid around my fingers. I could see them, but I felt nothing.

"So, now what?" I asked.

"Leave your right hand on the wall. Keep it planted firmly on the wall until we reach the center."

"Wait, sir," said Hermione. "We're going to have to get out faster than we got in. Maybe..." She rummaged around in her handbag, then pulled out a small ball of yarn. It was attached to knitting needles and a partially-completed hat-- one of Hermione's SPEW productions. I should have known she'd have a hat with her. She always did. The yarn looked green-- everything did, here-- but it could have been any colour.

She pulled the needles out, leaving loose loops of yarn. With a series of pulls, the hat unraveled. Hermione held a handful of loose yarn, filled with twists and kinks.

"Hurry, Miss Granger."

Snape had turned back to watch her. "What's your hurry?" I asked.

His mouth twisted. "Unlike you, Miss Granger, and the illustrious Mr Potter, I have rather restricted movements. The Dark Lord has me watched. I have no more than a couple of hours before I will be missed, and thus no more than a couple of hours to devote to completing this task."

"Made the right choice in picking sides, then, did you?" Harry snapped.

Snape's eyes narrowed. He looked over at Harry. "I can walk out of here right now, Mr Potter. I must admit I am curious whether you will succeed or burn to death without my assistance."

Hermione had her wand out now. She tapped the tangled yarn and it wound itself into a neat ball. She then tapped it again. It was now wider and less coarse. "Might as well make it fireproof," she said.

"Hermione," said Harry, "You wouldn't mind doing that with our clothes as well, would you?"

Hermione's mouth formed an "O." Colour filled her cheeks. It was probably red; in green light, it didn't look it. She tapped her jumper and trousers, came over and tapped mine, then Harry's. "Professor Snape?"

"If you would, Miss Granger," he said. She walked forward slowly and tapped his robe as well.

The robe wasn't Snape's problem; his greasy hair would probably go up like a torch.

Hermione walked back until she stood just in front of the black curtain. She took one of her knitting needles and drove it into the mortar between two stones in the floor. She murmured a spell. The mortar liquefied, then hardened again, setting it in place. She tied the transfigured yarn in a loose knot around the needle.

"Not like that," I said quickly. "It'll come loose."

She looked up at me and shrugged. "You can do better?"

I smiled. I spoke quietly; I didn't want Harry and Snape to hear. "Hermione, I've got _brothers_. We used to play 'prisoner of the Death Eaters.'" We'd played "prisoner of the Aurors," too. Either way, _I'd_ always ended up tied to a chair being badgered by Fred and George-- funny, that. Half the time, they'd left the room and forgot about me. I'd had plenty of time to study those knots.

I crouched down next to Hermione. I untied her knot, then wrapped and retied the yarn into the knot which was good for a full afternoon of imprisonment.

She looked at my handiwork, then smiled at me. I felt like a hero.

"Are you ready to depart now?" Snape asked, and, suddenly, I was "just Ron" again.

"Yeah, let's get this over with," said Harry.

I nodded at Hermione. I stood, then offered her a hand to help her to her feet. She clung to it a few moments longer than she had to.

"Let's go, mate," I said.

Snape put his right hand back on the wall. We took the first bend to the right. We kept moving forward, following him through turn after turn.

The yarn was a good idea. We hit a lot of blind alleys. Each time we left one, Hermione bundled up the yarn. It always stretched, taut, back to the beginning. Even if we'd memorised every turning, following the same path out as in would have been slow. With the yarn, we'd be fast.

I didn't know how long it took. It seemed like forever-- right turn, bend, another right, blind alley, circle back, gather yarn, right turn... If Snape only had two hours, there wasn't much left. At least Snape and Harry were quiet.

Then, an opening, a turn. At long last, we reached the heart of the maze. It was a large open oval with only one entrance. In the middle stood a platform with a small golden cup in its center. I scanned about for traps, but there was nothing.

We stood in a loose circle about the platform. Hermione was on my right, Harry my left, and Snape across from me between Hermione and Harry. Closer, now, I saw the cup. It had two handles. On the side facing me, it was engraved with a badger.

Harry leaned forward, not touching the platform or the cup. He let out a relieved sigh and grinned. "_This_ one's real. I remember it; it's Helga Hufflepuff's cup."

Snape frowned. "What do you mean, '_this_ one's real'?" he said harshly.

Harry's smile disappeared. He looked at Snape. "The last one-- the one we got before you _murdered_ Dumbledore-- was already gone. It wasn't the right locket."

Snape shook his head. For once, he'd dropped his usual contemptuous "Mr Potter" in addressing Harry. "That isn't possible."

"Why not?" Harry's voice was bitter.

Snape made no attempt to answer the question. "Where's the real one, then?"

"I don't know! There was a note--"

"What did it say? We can't defeat him unless we destroy them all! And if we can't defeat him--" Snape leaned toward Harry. His black eyes were wide, his face distorted. He was shouting now, spittle flying from his lips. I'd only ever seen Snape this out of control in the Shrieking Shack.

I didn't want to get between them, but I didn't have a choice. "Look, there's no point in discussing this now," I said. "We have to get _this_ one, get out, and destroy it."

"Ron's right," said Hermione. "We can talk about this later." I hadn't thought she'd say anything; Hermione hated Harry's temper more than I did.

A sudden thought struck me; I laughed.

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed.

Harry shot me an annoyed glance.

"Something amuses you, Mr Weasley? Please share it with the rest of us." Snape was back under control-- his usual nasty self.

I regretted laughing now. Well, sort of-- it had ended the argument. I still had to explain, though. "It's just-- I've realized. This is You-Know-Who's version of a joke, isn't it? It's a goblet-- and fire. The goblet of fire." It sounded rubbish, having said it out loud.

Snape shook his head. "I see, Mr Weasley. Now that you've shared your brilliant insight," his voice was scornful, "may we proceed with this endeavor?"

"Right." I looked down. Now wasn't the time. I wasn't certain I was wrong, though. Besides the locket, we still had more Horcruxes to find. If he _was_ copying Hogwarts, it was somewhere to start.

Snape shook his head again. His nostrils flared as he drew in a deep breath. His mouth twisted. He drew in and let out another deep breath. "The fire will change the instant someone takes the cup. Before we do, we need to be ready. The space is very confined. The air will go quickly. Our clothes may be fire-retardant, but our skin is not. As for the cup itself, it's not easy to hold a piece of the Dark Lord's soul in your hand."

Harry's face held disgust. I didn't want the cup either.

Snape pursed his lips. "I will take the cup."

Harry's disgust changed to fear. "You won't!" Harry said. "Is all of this just a way to get it to Voldemort?"

"Don't say his name! Especially not here-- of all places-- you stupid boy!" Snape shook his head. "The Dark Lord does not want it near him. If he had, we wouldn't have moved it here a year ago. If you do not trust me, take it yourself. Or ask one of your friends to take it. However, I trust you recall the headmaster's arm and Miss Weasley's possession by the diary. Even segmented, the Dark Lord's soul is a potent force. I do not covet the task."

I looked over at Hermione. Her lips were trembing. She pressed them tight together. She was clearly steeling herself to volunteer. Ginny'd had the diary; she'd been possessed. I didn't want to take the cup; I didn't want Hermione to take it either. If Harry asked me to, I would. I knew I had to volunteer before Hermione did. Burning to death was bad enough; You-Know-Who possessing Hermione was worse.

"Look, mate--" I began.

"No." Harry cut me off. He looked at Snape. "You're right. You take it." _Thank God._

Snape lifted one brow. "A wise decision. Now, be prepared to put up a shielding charm. We can't move quickly with one up, and the air will still be hot. The shield should keep the fire off." He reached for the cup.

"Wait!" said Hermione. Snape dropped his arm and looked at her. "Professor Snape, would a Bubble-Head charm help?"

My mouth dropped open. I stared at her, then looked over at Harry and Snape. Harry's mouth was open, face blank. Snape was watching Hermione with a look he'd always kept for Draco Malfoy-- approval. "Excellent, Miss Granger. Yes, presuming we are able to perform the charm here. If so, we can dispense with the shielding charm."

"Don't you know?" Harry asked.

The right corner of Snape's mouth pulled up. "I didn't set all the spells."

Hermione tried the charm; her head was encased in a bubble of air. It had worked.

I quickly copied her, as did Harry and Snape. We'd used these charms a lot in fifth year. I'd never seen Snape use one. Anywhere else, I would have been rolling to see Snape with his head encased in a diver's helmet.

The charm muffled Snape's voice, but I could hear him. "Remember, the fire can still burn us. I don't know if the bubble will disappear when I take the cup, or if we will be able to perform the charm again once the flames start. Try not to lose your concentration, keep low, and keep a grip on one another. Miss Granger, do not lose track of your yarn."

I moved to stand next to Hermione and grabbed her free hand; she held the ball of yarn in her right. Harry circled around and took my left hand. Snape still stood separate. "Sir?" said Hermione.

"Not yet, Miss Granger. There may be yet another trap. If it destroys me on the spot, it might as well be only me." With that, Snape's arm extended and his hand wrapped itself around the cup. I could see terror in the lines of his face; I preferred to see him angry, arrogant, and contemptuous. I never wanted to see Snape frightened of anything.

Nothing was secure anymore, but I didn't want to have to know it.

Nothing happened when he touched it. I breathed a little easier inside my bubble of air. Of course, he hadn't tried to remove it yet.

With a jerk, he pulled the cup off of the platform, dragging it close to his chest. Snape let out a choked cry. My eyes flew from his arm to his face, but I could see no signs of damage.

Half a second later, a gout of red flame burst from the center of the empty platform, spiraling up and catching the ceiling alight. That gave me more important things to worry about.

The walls around us joined the platform in flame, olive green flame turning red and crackling upward and outward. The heat was oppressive-- beating at me from all sides. The floor was still safe.

How could stone _burn_ like this?

"Go, you fools!" Snape cried. He cradled the cup against his chest and grabbed Hermione's sleeve with his other hand.

And we ran. Harry's grip on my hand was hard as we followed the yarn back through the turnings of the maze; it hurt. I had to be hurting Hermione's hand as well. I wasn't going to let go. She had the yarn. Without her, we wouldn't make it out.

With each turn, the flames grew hotter, brighter-- more oppressive, more blinding. I couldn't see. There was nothing but the heat, the light, the smoke-- Harry's hand in my left, Hermione's hand in my right, the stitch in my side, the shortness of my breath as we ran.

My skin stung. Just the hot air itself was burning me.

I hoped we hadn't lost Snape, but I couldn't see him.

Once I stumbled, fell over my own feet. I was dragged with the others for a pace or two before they got me up again.

Gouts of flame shot back and forth above my head. I bent at the waist to get out of blast range, continuing to run.

I didn't even know when we were going straight on and when we were turning; I just ran.

When we burst out into the Chamber of Secrets the sudden rush of cool air was shocking, the darkness blinding after the bright flames. I still held on to Hermione and Harry.

"Close it, Potter!" Snape's shout was almost incomprehensible, choked and gasping.

Gasped sibilants followed, and I heard the grind behind me-- the wall closing, sealing the flames away from us.

I let go of Harry and Hermione and sank down on the ground. My lungs ached, and I gasped in air. The Chamber was suddenly lit-- bright light like before.

The Chamber was clouded with smoke, but I could see Snape, Hermione, and Harry sprawled on the floor nearby. All three were drawing in deep breaths, panting. Their skin was red-- hot like a firebrand, red like a cherry. Harry had a livid burn across the back of his hand; I wondered how he'd got it, and if I had one myself.

I looked down at my own hands. They were red.

No longer running for my life, my skin was beginning to sting. It was redder than the worst sunburn I'd had. We'd have to do something about the burns, or our skin would blister and crack. It'd be hard to keep _that_ a secret.

"Someone will notice the smoke," Hermione said, her voice high and fast. "We need to get out of here."

"We do. We need to talk," said Snape. "And not here. Grab hold of my robe."

Hermione did, crawling over and gripping his sleeve, but Harry and I held back. "I-- why?" I asked.

"We cannot Apparate at Hogwarts. I have a Portkey, Mr Weasley, _if_ you will recall."

Hermione gave me her best aggravated look. "Come on," she mouthed. I didn't trust Snape. He'd killed Dumbledore, and he could betray us as well. We'd got the Horcrux. Now he held it. Again, no choice-- he had the Portkey. He could leave without us.

Reluctantly, I slid over and gripped his robe. Harry gripped my arm. Snape reached his free hand into a pocket in his robes, and I was suddenly flying through space, then-- a patch of forest, a rubbish-clogged stream, a rusty iron fence at the top of the hill. We landed sprawled on the ground. My right leg was lying in the stream. I dragged it out with a curse, leg already drenched. I let go Snape's robe, twisting on the ground to get further back from the stream bank.

Snape pulled his wand out of his pocket and tapped the bubble around his head. It vanished. I fumbled around in my pocket for my own, fabric scraping at my skin. A tap and my own bubble was gone; Hermione and Harry did the same.

"Sir, what about the Horcrux?" Hermione asked.

Snape shrugged and extended his arm, offering the cup to Hermione. "I can feel the miasma; I'm becoming accustomed to blocking it out." His mouth twisted. "Take it if you wish; I'd suggest wrapping it in fabric until you determine how to destroy it."

Harry reached out and grabbed the cup. He flinched, but jerked it away. Snape didn't fight him.

"As I said, Mr Potter, I recommend wrapping it until you determine how to destroy it. Even in fragments, the Dark Lord's soul can corrupt."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "He can't tempt _me,_" he said.

"I take it I am to be impressed by your incorruptibility? And, perhaps to cower in shame for my own weakness? Have no fear, our alliance will soon be at an end." Snape shook his head. "We will need to exchange some information first."

"Do you know how to destroy the Horcrux, sir?" Hermione asked.

Snape shrugged. "I saw none of them created. A vanishing charm will not suffice. In theory, Horcruxes are not difficult to destroy. You must simply destroy the vessel-- rip it, destroy it, bend it out of shape. The Dark Lord has layered protection charms on it; he didn't want the fire to destroy it. Break those, and it shouldn't be difficult. I'd suggest a metalsmith, but have a care. Watch him. He may well replace it with scrap metal and sell the cup."

I wouldn't have thought of it; suspicious Slytherins had their uses.

"Yeah, thanks," said Harry. The words seemed dragged out of him.

There was one more thing to ask. "D'you know what happened to the locket?" I said.

Harry glared at me. "Ron!"

Harry had already told Snape about the locket. What did it matter now? "He might know, Harry."

Snape's eyes turned and locked on mine. "Was Salazar Slytherin's locket not in the cave, Mr Weasley? From what I could read of the headmaster, there _was_ a locket retrieved."

_What he could read?_ Harry had said Snape and Dumbledore had no time to talk before Snape killed him.

I let Harry say it. "It was the wrong locket. The Horcrux was already gone. There was a note that said it would be destroyed," Harry said slowly.

Snape removed his unsettling stare from me and directed it at Harry. "I see. You _must_ determine whether the locket has actually been destroyed, Mr Potter. If it has not, the Dark Lord will be invincible."

"Don't you think I know that!" Harry brought his hand down hard on the ground. He appeared to have forgot he was holding the cup, which impacted with a thud.

"Professor," said Hermione, "the note was signed 'R.A.B.'"

Snape shook his head, but not in denial. If anything, his face reflected disbelief. "'R.A.B.' Regulus Black. I should have known. Try your house, Mr Potter. If Regulus didn't destroy it, and Sirius didn't get rid of it cleaning house, it's likely still there." He rose to his feet, leaving us staring up at him.

Harry dropped the cup on the ground. He stood up, fists clenched. "_Don't_ call him Sirius. You didn't when he was alive. You wanted him _dead._ Don't pretend he was your _friend._"

An expression I couldn't begin to read crossed Snape's face. He held his left hand, palm out towards Harry. "No, he was not my friend, Mr Potter. We were never _friends._ I'm unlikely to ever forget that." He took a step back and waved his wand. "Accio burn cream." Snape turned his left wrist, held his hand open, palm up.

Harry took a step back, then sat down again, fists still clenched. The Horcrux sat on the ground by his side.

A few minutes passed; a medium-sized jar zipped down the hill and into Snape's hand. "This should take care of the majority of the damage." He handed the jar down to Hermione. "And now, I believe I shall leave the three of you to your own devices. I don't know where to find the other Horcruxes. Should I find one, I shall find a way to notify you."

Snape gave us a final unreadable look, turned on his heel, and stalked away.

I looked over at Hermione, but she was watching Snape stumble up the hillside and through the gap in the rusty fence. I wondered what she saw. When he had disappeared, she turned back.

"Time to go," she said. "Meet you near Godric's Hollow, Ron. We'll need to get the burn ointment on before anyone sees us."

"I want to see where Snape goes," Harry said. "I'll need to find him again. For what he did to Dumbledore." I stared at him.

"Harry, he didn't have to help us," Hermione said.

"That doesn't make up for it," Harry said, his voice low.

"No, it doesn't," I said. "Not this time, though. We'll find him again."

Harry's lips pressed together flat.

"I promise, Harry," I told him.

Harry looked up the hill, then shook his head. He reached out, grabbed the cup-- another flinch-- and took Hermione by the arm. They Disapparated together with a crack.

I took out my own wand. I focused on the Apparition point we had chosen near Godric's Hollow. I Apparated myself away.

My body was wrenched and strained. Apparating would never feel natural.

I staggered when I arrived, then reached up out of habit to check my eyebrows. The left was fine. The right was tightly curled-- hairs singed by the heat of the fire. At the slightest pressure, the hairs flaked away.

I glanced around.

Harry and Hermione were a few paces away. Hermione already had the burn ointment greased on her fingers and was slicking it across her face. Her reddened skin was turning pale again beneath it. Harry was applying it more slowly.

I moved toward them.

Whatever else Snape was, he made one hell of a burn ointment.

An eyebrow was a small price to pay. Even Apparition had cost me an eyebrow once.

A very small price, indeed.

I felt my mouth quirk. Even that movement hurt. It didn't matter. My heart rose in my chest.

We had the cup. We could destroy it. We had hope.

-----

**A/N:** This story was written for the multi-fandom worst case scenario challenge. My scenario: tunnel fire.

**A/N2:** This is connected vaguely with my continuing SS/SB saga with titles out of Coleridge's and Gray's poetry. If you wish, you can consider it to be connected to my old story, "Not _Quite_ Good Enough to be Going on With" instead. It works either way (considering large portions of the saga are taken from my rejected sequels to the old story, that's not surprising).

**A/N2:** Many thanks to Kalena for reading through an earlier draft of this story and telling me how I was screwing up Ron. It helped enormously.


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